by Becki Willis
The ground rose slightly, so Genny turned her lantern back on and picked up her pace. As the light grew stronger, and brighter, she began to run.
Chapter Twenty-One
She burst out into full daylight and let out a cry of joy. She was free! She had found her way out of the cave and was standing in the wide, open light of day. She drank in the fresh air and gazed up at the clear Texas sky, scattered here and there with puffy clouds. What a glorious sight to behold!
Her curiosity piqued, Genny looked around at the entrance to the cave. From here, it appeared to be an unassuming indentation within the rock. The karst ate into the side of a hill, partially covered by a ledge. Grass, shrubbery, and exposed roots dangled precariously from the eroding soil overhead.
The sound of trickling water drew her attention. Genny followed the melody and discovered a delightful creek running nearby.
While she fully appreciated the wide-open space of freedom, it occurred to Genny that if Pembrook should come back, he would easily see her outside the cave. As she slipped into the trees that edged the creek, she wondered how Pembrook had accessed the cave. He claimed they were on Montgomery property, but how had he come and gone from the ranch without anyone noticing?
She had her answer almost immediately. Less than two hundred yards away, a flash of light caught her eye. She realized the county road lay just beyond the barbed wire fence, offering Pembrook easy access to the cave. He only had to know where to look.
Genny pulled out her cell phone, only to discover she had no service. She turned and traveled along the creek, opposite the direction of the road. The path took her deeper into the ranch, but she much preferred meeting up with hundreds of cows over meeting one English madman. Eventually, she would come across a person or a cell signal, or both. She simply had to walk.
As she skirted along the babbling creek, careful to keep among the trees, Genny decided that when this ordeal was over, she was parking her tush in a chair and she was not budging, not for days. She had walked enough in the past few days to last her for the rest of the month. No more walking for this girl, she decided.
The moment she got a signal, she dialed Cutter’s number.
“Genny? Genny, where are you?” he barked into the phone, his voice anxious.
“Somewhere on your ranch. Walking along the creek, away from the mouth of the cave. Come get me, Cutter.”
“You’re breaking up. Did you say on the ranch? My ranch?”
“Yes, your ranch. Along the creek. Bring Brash.”
“Did you say bring Brash?”
“Yes. Come get me, Cutter.”
“I’m on my way, Genny darlin’. I’m on my way.”
Genny found a place to stop and rest. She was well away from the road now, and felt marginally safe. Pembrook would not think to look for her here, and when and if he did, Cutter would already have collected her.
She sent a text message to Brash, explaining her situation. She sent another to Maddy. By the time she finished, she heard a motor, and looked up to see Cutter’s big truck bouncing along the field, making its own path along the creek bottom.
She ran to meet him the moment he stopped the truck, and he swept her up into his arms, holding her so tightly he almost crushed her.
“Let—Let go, Cutter,” she gasped.
“Never,” he swore, but his grip loosened. “What happened, Genny? Are you okay? Where have you been?”
“I’m fine. And you?” When she ran her hand along the nape of his neck, she noticed that he flinched. “That’s where he hit you, wasn’t it? Are you okay?”
“Where who hit me? Who did this?”
“Pembrook. He’s the one who kidnapped me.”
Rage filled Cutter’s handsome face, distorting his features. Through clenched teeth, his voice heated with anger. “That son of a—”
“Shh,” she said, her finger to his lips. “It’s over now. I’m fine. You came for me.”
“Genny, I let you down.” He started to drop his arms from her waist, his eyes filled with misery.
“Don’t you dare let me go,” she whispered urgently. “And you could never let me down, Cutter. You’re here now, aren’t you?”
“He got the slip on me, Genny. He snuck up behind me and hit me over the head. Pulled me off to one side and stole my truck.” His arms tightened around her as his voice tightened with sorrow. “Stole my girl. He took you, Genny, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
“It’s okay, Cutter. All that matters is that we are both okay now, and that we are going to put Pembrook Harris away, once and for all. I explained everything to Brash. He’s on his way and we’re going to catch Pembrook.” She looked down at her hand, and the diamond that twinkled in the sunlight. “He killed them, Cutter,” she murmured sorrowfully.
“Killed who, Genny darlin’?”
“The Morgans. He was there, before the fire. He took her ring.” She showed him the diamond on her finger.
“What are you doing with that on your ring finger?” he asked sharply.
“Pembrook... he said—he said we were getting married. He had a wedding planned.”
“Oh, hell no,” Cutter said, his jaw set in anger. “Did he hurt you, Genny? Did he touch you? I’ll kill him. I will kill him with my bare hands!”
“Shh, no. No, he didn’t hurt me.” She traced her finger along his mouth, trying to soften the hard lines she saw there. “Do we really have to talk about Pembrook right now?” she asked. She stood on her tiptoes so that she could touch her mouth to his. “What I really want,” she whispered, “is for you to kiss me.”
“Genny darlin’,” Cutter whispered, just before he granted her request.
Brash found them there along the creekside, waiting for him on the tailgate of Cutter’s truck. His deputies were not far behind.
After a brief discussion, they settled on a plan. Officer Shimanski and Berry Perry circled around to the top of the bluff, where they had a bird’s eye view of the scene below. Cutter waited just inside the cave, while Brash blended in with the trees. Genny could see it all, safely tucked away among the vines and bramble that edged the creek. She wore one of Cutter’s jackets to hide the red of her dress.
Pembrook approached on foot, crossing through the fence down by the road. His car, though clearly visible, was parked in the edge of some trees. The Englishman carried a large plastic tote and whistled a merry tune as he crossed the pasture. He had no idea anyone watched his approach, even though he checked over his shoulder often. He thought the only danger he might encounter would come from behind.
He never saw them, not until he had reached the mouth of the cave.
“Here,” Brash said, stepping out of the shadows. “Let me help you with that.”
“Ah...” Clearly at a loss for words, the Englishman stammered as he faced the angry lawman. When provoked, Brash deCordova was an ominous opponent. The dandy shifted on his feet, trying to come up with a quick excuse to explain his presence.
Although the plan was for her to stay in the trees, Genny stepped out into the open. She had to confront Pembrook, once and for all.
“Why, Pembrook?” she asked, her voice low. “Why did you do it? Why did you kidnap me? And why did you kill the Morgans?”
“Because I love you, Genny.” The Englishman’s voice held a whine.
“That’s not love, Pembrook.”
“I would do anything for you, Genny; you must know that by now!”
“Including kill the people I considered my parents?”
“They stood between us, Genny. They tried to keep you from me. I had to stop them, before they turned you against me.”
“You’re sick, Pembrook,” she whispered. “You’re insane.”
“We’re getting married, Genesis. I have the dress.” He indicated the crate that he carried.
“You really think I would marry you? After you tormented me all these weeks, after you kidnapped me and held me hostage?”
“I haven’t done
anything to you these past few weeks, Genesis. I love you. I want to marry you.”
Cutter flew out of the cave then, screeching like a wild Indian on attack. He hurled an angry curse as he launched his fist into the dandy’s face. Pembrook Harris folded like a house of cards. His head snapped back and he fell to the ground, a limp bag of bones.
“Good Lord, Cutter, you weren’t supposed to kill the fool!” Brash growled, but his voice held no real conviction.
“He’ll wish he was dead by the time I finish with him!” Cutter leaned over him, tossing the crate away with ease. When the lid popped off and a lacy white wedding dress spilled onto the ground, Cutter straddled the dandy’s chest and began punching his face.
Brash tried pulling him off, but Cutter was possessed.
“Get down here and help me!” Brash yelled to his officers. He tugged again at Cutter’s shoulders. “Cutter! That’s enough!”
“He kidnapped Genny!” He landed a blow onto the unconscious man’s jaw. “He planned to marry her by force!” And another. “He killed her friends!”
It took all three men to drag him away. By then, Pembrook’s face was battered and badly beaten. Cutter’s fists had not fared much better.
“Cutter, your hands,” Genny cried, taking them into her own.
“I don’t care, Genny,” Cutter insisted stubbornly. “He deserved it, and more.”
“Yes, but you didn’t.” She pulled the edge of her skirt up, heedless to the expanse of skin she revealed. She wiped at his scraped knuckles. “Granny Bert is going to have a time with us,” she predicted, clucking her tongue. “Your hands and my feet.”
From behind them on the ground, Pembrook groaned in pain.
“Pembrook Harris, you are under arrest for kidnapping, theft of a vehicle, bodily assault, holding a woman against her will, intent to cause bodily harm, intent to force a woman into human bondage,” he rattled off the charges as he rolled the English dandy onto his stomach, grabbed his arms behind his back, and slapped the handcuffs into place. He continued with the list of infractions, “possible murder charges, trespassing, and for ruining a perfectly good Centennial Celebration.” He dusted his hands off with a look of disgust. “Take him away, boys. Lock him up good and tight.”
Pembrook moaned as the two officers hauled him to his feet and drug his limp form across the grass.
As they attempted to stuff him into the back seat of the patrol car, Brash called out, “Harris, get a good look at the sunshine. You won’t see it again for a very long time.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
They missed the Centennial Celebration dance that night. Genny and her family had something more important to celebrate.
Cutter’s speech said it best. A centennial celebration came around once every hundred years, but a woman like Genesis Baker came around only once. They toasted to her safety and well-being, thankful to have her safe at home again.
And the next day, at Genny’s insistence, the final reveal episode of Home Again: Starting Over went forward as planned. With Pembrook behind bars and the ordeal behind them, there was no reason not to embrace the future.
Madison had one demand that she insisted on adhering to, whether Amanda Hooper liked it or not. She refused to go through the house without Genny at her side. Her friend would be there for the entire thing, right alongside Blake, Bethani, and Granny Bert. And later, Brash, Megan and Cutter would join them for part of the taping. It was not a request, she informed the producer, but a requirement. Without her entire family surrounding her, Madison refused to do the show.
The house itself was magnificent. Grander than anything Maddy had ever imagined.
Each room was a masterpiece. The front parlor, painstakingly restored to its original elegance, was beautiful, but a bit formal for her tastes. The dining room, with its hand-painted mural of a cotton plantation sprawled across the walls and its gleaming mahogany table, would be for dinner parties and holidays.
Family meals would take place in the breakfast nook. Madison loved the light and airy room and the way it folded around the back corner of the house. She also loved her butler’s pantry and the farmhouse kitchen, with its wall of white painted cabinetry and its gleaming wood floors. And if she had to do laundry and other such mundane household chores, the downstairs laundry and utility room was every woman’s dream.
A new turret rose at the back of the house, offering spacious baths on all three levels. The old servant quarters at the back corner of the house were now a suite of rooms, designed with Granny Bert in mind. The remainder of the first floor — the ladies’ parlor, the small sitting room-turned-media room, and the formal library-turned office — had been featured on the first reveal.
The grand staircase, an architectural wonder from the turn of the twentieth century, strung all the way to the third floor, and needed only new polish and a bit of love from master carpenter Nick Vilardi to reclaim its grandeur.
Three generous guest rooms and a sumptuously remodeled bath awaited them on the second floor. Blake’s bedroom was in the far corner, with access to the new turret bath. Electronic wonders filled the teenager’s room, the décor an upscale sports theme. The second floor even boasted its own laundry room.
Madison’s grand suite of rooms stretched the entire right side of the second floor. Her closet and master bath were both over-the-top. With elaborate custom furnishings, her bedroom was swathed in shades of soft white and cream, splashed with accents of moss green and charcoal. Miss Juliet’s upstairs library was now a computer room and Madison’s personal office.
The abbreviated third floor originally housed a grand ballroom in the center, with bookend turrets. Now the ballroom was a game room, the perfect place for the twins to entertain their friends. One turret was transformed into Bethani’s bedroom, the other a casual lounge for hanging out.
There was only one proper way to top off the six-month remodel and the end of a successful season: the studio hosted a huge gala at the mansion. Even with its spacious areas and excessive rooms, the Big House was filled that night with family, friends, and dreams of a new future.
By the time the party broke up and the crowd thinned, the clock had inched its way toward midnight.
“Why don’t you stay the night, Genny?” Madison invited. “We might need the company. I’m not so sure about the three of us, rattling around in this huge old house.”
“Thanks, but I have to work tomorrow. And I’m sort of partial to my own mattress, lumps and all.”
Maddy laughed and hugged her friend’s neck. “I understand. As always, thank you for everything you did. And thanks for that wonderful oil painting. It is amazing. You two really surprised me with that.” She hugged Cutter’s neck, too.
The restored painting, depicting the Big House in its glory days, was a gift from both of them. When Maddy and the twins unwrapped the gift, Genny predicted, “This old house ain’t seen nothin’ yet! The best is yet to come.”
Cutter drove Genny home and saw her settled.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” he offered.
“I’m fine, Cutter. Tired, but fine.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch. Or in the guest room.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m exhausted. It’s been a rough week, to say the least.”
He touched her cheek, his eyes uncharacteristically serious. “Genny? I’m glad you’re safe, darlin’. I don’t think I could have survived something happening to you.”
Her smile was gentle. “You could,” she said with confidence. “But thank you for the sentiment.”
“I was serious the other night, you know. About the grandchildren. Just so you know, I plan to marry you, Genesis Baker.”
She stared up at him, blinking in surprise.
His mouth puckered in mock irritation, but the gesture had a grain of truth. “You don’t have to look so panicked. I’m not proposing to you, not yet. I’m just giving you a heads-up. One day, I will come to you on bended knee and ask you to be
my wife.”
“I—I—” she floundered with an answer, overwhelmed with the enormity of his statement.
His teasing smile was back, but the truth was in his eyes. “I know, I know. I told you I wouldn’t pressure you, and here I am talking about our grandchildren. Forget I even said anything.”
“Like I could forget something like that!” she mumbled, still in a daze. Cutter Montgomery planned to marry her? Incredible. Mind-boggling.
A dream too fragile to dream, her heart whispered.
“Don’t worry your pretty head over it tonight. Goodnight, Genny darlin’. Sweet dreams.”
She lifted her face for his chaste kiss. “Goodnight, Cutter.”
She closed the door behind him, suddenly exhausted. She couldn’t worry over it tonight. Couldn’t think about if he were serious or teasing. Couldn’t spin impossible dreams best suited for a woman half her age. Tonight, she needed her rest.
Dressing for bed, she applied the salve Granny Bert had given her, slid her feet into thick cotton socks, and slipped beneath the covers. She was asleep within minutes.
An hour later, Genny awoke to the smell of smoke.
Like an old forty-five record with a scratch, time skipped backward and repeated itself.
A noise woke her. Genny looked at the clock – just after two – and dialed Cutter’s number.
“Cutter! My house is on fire!”
“Get out, Genny. Get out now.” He ground out the instructions before slamming down the phone.
Smoke clogged the air, and she could hear the snap and crackle of fire. Genny threw on pants and shoes, snagged her purse and a sweater thrown across a nearby chair, and started for the door. She turned back long enough to grab a nearby empty canvas bag. With a sweep of her arm, she cleared the top of her dresser into the bag, threw in anything else of value she saw, and added a photo album from her bookshelf and pictures off her walls. With her arms full of salvage, she hurried into the hallway.